


Island of Misfit Toys

by Kathryn_Sabourin



Series: Ragtags [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Brotherhood, Childrens Death Mentioned, F/M, Foster Care, Gen, Implied Lafayette/Adrienne, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, References to Drugs, Washingdad, Washingfam, Washingmom, genderqueer lafayette, john is hella gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2016-07-19
Packaged: 2018-07-25 08:39:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7525954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kathryn_Sabourin/pseuds/Kathryn_Sabourin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the loss of Martha's four children, she never could have imagined the four new ones that would come into her life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Island of Misfit Toys

**Author's Note:**

> Formating Note: The bulk of the story is told as a narrative, with the italicised text being a flashback. The epilogue is told as a current narrative, hence the formatting change. Hope that clears anything up for ya'll!
> 
> Historical Note: Martha was married before George to an extremely wealthy Virginian planter named Daniel Parke Custis. She had four children with him: Daniel, Frances, John (Jacky), and Martha (Patsy). Daniel Jr. and Sr. both died the same week of the same illness, Jr. at 3 and Sr. at 45; Frances died at 4 due to illness; Patsy died at 17 to an epilectic seizure; and Jacky at 27 to Typhous Fever he caught while a soldier. I changed the timeline and events for Jacky's death. 
> 
> ***I pictured Martha as a slightly older Kerry Washington, just as a reference.***
> 
> Please read and review!!

Lafayette was seven when they were placed with the Washingtons. Their father having died two years earlier, their mother fell into a depression rendering her unable to care for the young Marquis. They had been left with an aunt in the countryside of France, who soon grew too ill to care for them. Left without options, Lafayette was sent overseas to America, where a social worker found them a couple in Virginia to stay with. They had been hesitant to trust the Washingtons; their father was a politician, and Lafayette had grown an intrinsic distrust of political men. But the foster parents had been kind to them. 

_ Shying away behind their social worker, Lafayette timidly looked up at the man looming before him. They had heard many things about the Washington’s in France; their father knew the politician in Paris, where both of them had previously worked. But Lafayette themself had never met the man.  _

_ Kneeling so as to be at their eye level, George spoke calmly to the child in French. _

_ “Bonjour, Gilbert. Comme ça va?” He reached out his hand to Lafayette, who hesitantly took it. _

_ “ _ _ Je suis mal à l'aise,” they answered honestly. Slowly moving away from their social worker, Lafayette curled their fingers around George’s hand, following him towards the other woman, standing in the corner of the room.  _

_ “Voilà undestandable,” George agreed. “Elle s’appelle Martha.” He gestured to the woman, who knelt as George had before.  _

_ “Hello, Gilbert. I’m afraid I don’t know French as well as you or George,” she said kindly. “I do hope that you can teach me, though.” _

_ “It is alright. I have learned English since I was little.” They proudly proclaimed. “I can start teaching you now.” They pointed to her. “Je m’appelle Martha.”  _

_ “Je m’appelle Martha,” she repeated. Her smile was warm. Lafayette trusted her.  _

George and Martha had spent Lafayette’s first week in the States at home with them, showing them their neighborhood, introducing them to the children next door, and teaching Lafayette about themselves. George had spent several working as an Envoy in France, so he spoke with Lafayette in their native tongue near fluently. He currently worked as a Senator representing Virginia in Congress. While spending most of his time in DC, his true passion was gardening. Martha was a kind woman, her eyes wrinkled softly when she smiled. Lafayette soon learned that she had several children from her previous marriage, none of whom lived into adulthood. This dark mark on her past did not affect her relationship with Lafayette; from day one she accepted them as her own child. 

Two years later, when the Washingtons decided to officially adopt Lafayette, their family unit became whole. It was also at this time that the Washingtons welcomed another child into their home, Hercules Mulligan. 

Hercules was a kid from the Bronx, he never knew his father, and when he was ten his mother got arrested for drugs. She had tried to work three jobs to support them, but it just wasn’t enough. The money that she made from selling put food on the table and Hercules in a bed. She was a kind woman, who loved Hercules dearly. She made every sacrifice she could for them. Her sentence was ten years, and she knew that she wouldn’t be able to see Hercules grow up as she wanted to. His social worker had recommended the Washington’s down in Virginia, and when his mother read their case file, the amount of wealth they had, their political standing, their other child, she knew that they would be able to provide Hercules with the life that she never could. And with that, Hercules joined the now growing Washington family. 

Lafayette had not taken to Hercules when they first met. A year younger, Lafayette’s posh childhood was nothing like that of Hercules’ urban upbringing; they were from two different worlds. After a week of avoidance, Lafayette one day found Hercules sitting in the back garden, knitting. They were surprised, to say the least. 

_ “ _ _ Qu'est-ce que c'est? You knit?” They asked incredulously, crossing their arms. “No one but grand-mères knit!”  _

_ Hercules looked up at Lafayette, raising his eyebrows. “I knit, and you wear dresses. I guess we’re both a little odd, huh?” He gave a small smile to the other child, shrugging his shoulders and returned to his knitting. _

_ Lafayette looked down at the sundress that Martha had purchased for them at their request. Being a French aristocrat, or at least the child of one, had lead to a sense of fashion most might find odd for someone their age. It was a bright yellow dress, one that Lafayette was quite fond of.  _

_ “What is wrong with my dress?” They asked defensibly. Some of the children at school had started teasing Lafayette for how they presented themselves.  _

_ The other boy shrugged. “Nothin’, it’s a nice dress. Most boys don’t wear dresses, is all.” _

_ “I am not a boy!” Lafayette responded firmly.  _

_ “Are you a girl then?” Hercules asked neutrally. He’d grown up in New York, he’d seen plenty of blurred gender lines.  _

_ Lafayette shook their head. “I am not a boy or a girl. I am me!”  _

_ Hercules shrugged again. “Okay.” He went back to knitting, but Lafayette stayed staring at him for several more moments.  _

_ “Can you, uh, can you show me how to do that?” They asked quietly. Hercules looked up, surprised, but nodded.  _

_ “Sure, come here.” He patted the spot of grass next to him, where Lafayette sat readily. “Okay, so first, you wrap the yarn around the needle like this.” _

From then on Lafayette and Hercules became the best of friends. They were almost never found apart, and despite the year in age difference, they occupied all of the same classes in school. As they grew older, they grew closer. Once they got to middle school, Martha and George just moved their beds into the same room. Too often were they woken up by the sounds of the two going between each other’s rooms. 

Perhaps the part of their relationship that made Martha proudest was how they stood up for each other. They stood out in the suburbs of Mt. Vernon, Virginia, she was unhappy to discover. Lafayette was a flamboyant gender-nonconforming immigrant, and Hercules a sports-built, arts-minded boy. The color of their skin didn’t help either. The schools they attended were predominantly white, and white Southerners don’t take too kindly to changes in the status quo. Martha got many calls from school telling her that one or both of them had gotten into a fight with other students. When questioned at home about it, it was almost always in defense of the other. While she chastised them for fighting, she was always relieved to know that they protected each other, especially when she couldn’t.

Lafayette had begun to open up to the Washingtons several months after joining them, but after Hercules joined the family they blossomed, as George and Martha had only hoped they could. Now it was George who was telling the two to lower their voices, not the other way around. Mornings bustled, and evenings hummed and Martha felt as if she had regained a piece of her heart she never realized she had been missing. 

The Washingtons assumed that Hercules would be the last addition to the family, a decision they were content with. After the loss of Martha’s two oldest children, neither of them ever thought that they would fill their home with young laughter again. She was blessed with her children as they were, and thanked every star that Lafayette and Hercules had been brought into her life; they were more than she ever dared ask for after her son’s death.

That is, until George was pulled into an unexpected meeting with his fellow Senator, Henry Laurens. Laurens had a son around the same age as Lafayette and Hercules, one whom George heard many private rants about. The South Carolina senator was an old school Baptist, and every aspect of that trickled into his politics, and his family. His son John could just never seem to live up to Henry’s expectations, and he had reached the final breaking point. Henry had walked in on him and another boy several weeks ago, and after discovering John’s sexuality, had kicked him out. Now he needed a favor from George. 

Henry was up for reelection this year, and a scandal involving his son was the last thing that he needed. 

_ “George, I know this is a lot to ask, but can you take him? I can’t afford word getting out to the press; it looks a lot better if he stays with you than at a boarding school. He’s a sophomore, same as your boys.” _

_ “Children,” George corrected automatically. Correcting people’s pronouns for his children had become a reflex for him. “Henry, I understand your circumstances, but this surely too rash a-” _

_ “It’s the final straw, George,” Henry exasperated. “He disrespects me, he slanders my name, he’s now influencing the other children, and now  _ this.”  _ He gestured angrily to the air. “I will not let him live in my house any longer.”  _

_ George contemplated the request. Noticing the uncertainty, Henry continued the pitch. “I can pay support, George. I wouldn’t just dump such a burden on you and Martha like that.” _

_ “Children are not a burden, Henry,” George responded cooly. “Once you change your view on that, I believe that you’ll find many of your problems solved.” _

When he spoke with Martha that night on skype, she was absolutely horrified. She had never liked Henry Laurens, and this newest piece to the puzzle certainly did not improve his image for her. After how hard she fought to have children, she couldn’t fathom someone willing abandoning their own. She was determined to remove him, and any of the other children, from the Laurens household as soon as possible. While she did not have a case for the others yet, she could take John. The decision to take John Laurens into their household was one of the fastest, and easiest, decisions that Martha had ever made. 

For as shy as the Lafayette and Hercules had been when they first arrived, neither of them could compare with the silence that followed John around the house. He was flitty, spending only meals with the Washingtons. The other teens tried to get him to open up, but even their humor and good intentions couldn’t engage him. John’s nights were lonely; he had his own room, one that felt too big and too empty. Some nights, Lafayette could hear him talking on the phone to someone in Spanish, but they never asked who it was. 

John seemed to adjust fine physically to the new home and school, but he remained emotionally distant his first few months of living there. While he would sit with Lafayette and Hercules’ friends at lunch, he would almost never contribute to the conversation. Martha grew increasingly worried about him the longer he lived with them; neither of the other children took this long to acclimate. 

_ There was a light knock on his bedroom door. John looked up, surprised. Usually he was only bothered for meals, or when they tried to coax him into participating in a family night. Now was neither of these times.  _

_ “John, dear, can I come in?” Martha called gently.  _

_ “Uh, sure,” he responded. Martha entered, carrying a small photo album and a quilt with her. _

_ “May I?” she asked, gesturing to the spot on the bed next to him. John scooted over so that she could have more room. Martha sat crossed legged, facing the same direction as him. They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, Martha looking around the sparsely decorated room. Lafayette and Hercules had been quick to fill their walls with color and posters. John only had a few pictures on top of his dresser, and the walls were still the original pale yellow Martha and George had painted it years before. _

_ She looked over at John, admiring the sketch he was working on. It was of a turtle, a species she had never seen before.  _

_ “Ah, that’s wonderful, John. You know, my Jacky used to be quite the artist as well. Our walls were filled with his drawings. Actually, most of the paintings in the library are his.”  _

_ John looked up at her, confused. “Jacky? My mom used to call me Jacky. My mom and my sister.”  _

_ Martha smiled gently, rubbing her thumb over the the leather bound photo album. “My youngest son, Jacky. Here he is, actually,” she flipped the album to a page with several photos, one of which showed a young man, only slightly older than John. “When he was eighteen he joined the military. Wanted to be just like George, his stepfather,” she explained fondly. “George severed for several years before we met, even became a General. Jacky looked up to him, not having ever had the chance to truly know his own father. Daniel, my first husband, died when Jacky was only four. He always viewed George as a father.” She flipped to another page, this time showing her son in a full military dress. _

_ “The day he graduated from the academy I was so proud. He had sacrificed everything to make it there. He was deployed to Iran.” She trailed off, eyes lingering on the picture. John saw a wetness in her eyes; not tears, but emotion. “A year later he was killed in action. He was my last one to go.”  _

_ John sat watching Martha, not sure entirely what to say. “Oh, um, I-” _

_ “At twenty-five I was a widow and had buried my first two children, and at thirty-five I had buried my last two. I never thought that God would give me a second chance at happiness. But then I met George; Gilbert was given to us, then Hercules. And now you, John.” She handed him the quilt that she had been lying on her lap. Lafayette had used it when they first arrived, Hercules afterwards. It had a way of calming them when they slept. _

_ “Maybe, just maybe, this is your second chance, too, John.” _

Within the week John had brightened exponentially. He was participating in family functions, his grades began to rise again, and Lafayette’s friends became his own. John was thriving, and Martha and George were there to support him every step of the way. At Martha’s request, John began seeing a therapist to deal with the traumas of his original home, and John became better at processing those emotions. John’s relationships with the other Washington children also bettered. They welcomed him with the open arms that they had been met with, and the infamous Washington Duo soon became the even more infamous Washington Trio. 

It became commonplace to find the three of them piled onto the couch for a movie night, or sharing the same bed late into the night. John’s bed couldn’t be fit into Lafayette and Hercules’, so they made do with many makeshift mattresses when they all wanted to spend the night together. It was also just as commonplace for Martha to get calls from the school informing her that now two of her children had gotten into a fight defending the third. 

They had managed to get all three of them into the local arts high school, which was well known for its programs, but unfortunately problems still arose. Virginia was Virginia, no matter how liberal the environment. John was passionately defensive of his two siblings, and was often the first to start throwing punches. Lafayette would be quick to join him, while Hercules was usually the one needing defending. Despite the boy’s demeanor, he was by the far the least aggressive of the three of them, unless of course, someone went after Laf. The only time Martha had ever seen Hercules truly lose his composure was when someone starting shouting slurs at the French teen. George had had to physically restrain Hercules, not an easy feat given how much muscle the teen had managed to pack. 

Despite the occasional detention, or the never to be repeated suspension, the Washingtons lives went on in relative peace for another year. Martha’s home was how she always wanted it, children grown into young adults, each holding a piece of her heart. She doted on each of them, and they her. She filled the role each of them needed from her; Lafayette a confidant, Hercules a model, John a mother. She and Lafayette would spend hours gossiping as they went shopping or in the salon or in their kitchen. As Hercules had grown older, he expanded his knitting and doll clothes making in actual fashion design, and Martha was more than willing to oblige the need for a model. John had revealed to her that when he was thirteen, his own mother died. She left him when he was most vulnerable, and he had struggled to find true safety in an adult until moving in with the Washingtons. Martha became John’s safety net, and the two formed a bond stronger than George had seen with any of their other children. Martha loved her children equally, there was no doubt, but there was something special about John. 

When George got the unexpected call one day, his first reaction was to say no. Due to their history, the Washingtons had become known as a bleeding heart family in the foster care world. He and Martha were getting older; while fifty-five wasn’t dead, they certainly weren’t twenty either. The children were older too, the three of them about to enter their senior year of high school. Another foster child just wasn’t where their lives were heading right now. Even so, he had been planning a trip to New York for work within the week anyway, and agreed to meet with the social worker and old friend while there. Martha accompanied him, leaving the three teens home alone for the long weekend. 

What was originally supposed to be a lunch and reunion turned into an hour long discussion about the newest ward of the state, Alexander Hamilton. He had come to America when he was sixteen, after a hurricane destroyed the island he’d grown up on. His mother died when he was twelve, and he had been living with a family friend for several years, before managing to get a scholarship to a private school here in New York. The family he was originally placed with had given up after four months, and his next home after only two. Desperate, the old friend of the Washington’s had hoped that he might find a permanent home with them. This was the same caseworker who had placed Hercules with them, and he knew that the Washington’s gang of misfits might just be the place for Alexander to finally settle. While George was unsure, Martha insisted on at least meeting with the poor boy before making their decision.

George knew as soon as Alexander started speaking that there was something special about him. There was a fire in his soul that was near impossible to find anymore, and when Martha read his poems about Nevis and his mother, she broke down crying. They knew then that their family was going to have to get just a little bigger. 

While the first three Washington children had taken time to adjust to the home, Alexander seemed to fit right in as if he had always belonged there. Their dinner conversations got just a little livelier, movie nights lasted just a little longer, and Alex fit in just a little too well. He moved in with John, and the two became near inseparable, just as Lafayette and Hercules had bonded all those years ago. Alexander had found a place in their home. 

_ Martha glanced at the clock above the television. It was well after two am. The gaggle of teens were dead asleep on the couch, the movie they were watching long over. It wasn’t worth it to make them move, she thought to herself. She grabbed the couple of blankets they kept in the chest in the corner of the room, and draped them over them all. Lafayette and Hercules were sprawled out on the long part of the couch, while the two smaller boys snuggled together on the extended end.  _

_ She heard soft footsteps behind her, and George wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. “They’re not as obnoxious when they’re like this, huh?” He asked quietly, resting his head on her shoulder.  _

_ “Mmhh,” she agreed, melting into his touch. They stayed like that, looking at their unlikely family.  _

_ “Are you happy, my love?” He asked her, placing a soft kiss on her neck. She turned to face him, wrapping her arms around his neck. _

_ “When I lost Jacky, I thought that I lost my world.” Martha looked back at the couch. They would all be graduating soon, and she wasn’t sure if she was ready to be an empty nester yet. She had spent eleven years raising these children, and she was unimaginably proud of everything they’ve become.  _

_ “It turns out my world is just a little bit wider than I originally thought.” _

 

_ \----Epilogue---- _

This was the first Christmas in several years that the entire Washington clan would be spending together. Lafayette was often caught going between France and the United States for diplomatic reasons, as well as to visit their fiance, Adrienne. Alexander and Hercules had both relocated to New York City, Alex to pursue a law career and Hercules to design costumes for Broadway. John was the only one to stay local, moving to Richmond to become a nurse. They all checked in with their parents often, but John was the only one truly able to visit as often as Martha would have liked. 

John was the first to appear at their doorstep, on the twenty-first of December. Lafayette and Adrienne were expected to arrive the next morning, while Hercule’s flight was to bring him in the evening. Alexander was the last to arrive, per usual. The days leading up to Christmas went by in a blur, filled with baking and movies and laughter. It wasn’t until Christmas Eve that Martha began to grow restless. 

“Mamá, calmez-vous,” Lafayette commented idly as their mother began nit-picking the already impeccable living room. “Alexander will be here soon, he promised. You are the only one he would dare make a promise to,” they assured, sprawling out on the couch. Adrienne settled in next to them, her fiance wrapping their arms around her waist.

“Yeah, Ma, don’t worry.” Hercules chimed in from the kitchen, pulling a sheet of gingerbread cookies out of the oven.  

John walked in wearing his pajamas, a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle onesie that Lafayette has gotten him as a joke last year, but to their horror found that John unironically wore it all of the time. He handed Martha the knitting she had abandoned earlier in the day. “Mom, don’t worry. He’ll be here,” his voice was significantly calmer than the others, placing a light kiss on her cheek.

No sooner had he spoken those words than there was a light knock on the door, before it opened with a “We’re home!” called from the front parlor

Martha dropped her knitting as she crossed to the stairs, calling up to George. When she turned around, there was a huddle in the entry way. John and Alex hugged, kissing each other’s cheeks. Lafayette ruffled Alex’s ever growing hair, while Hercules hugged Eliza and exchanged pleasantries. Martha pushed her way through them. 

“Hello dear,” she welcomed, pulling Alexander into a hug. She held him tight; it had been over a year since she had seen him last. Pulling back, she held his face in her hands, examining it closely. 

“You, young man, need more sleep. These bags under your eyes are completely unacceptable,” she scolded, before turning her attention to her daughter-in-law. 

“You, my dear, on the other hand look fabulous. I do hope that you’re trying to keep him in check.” She pulled the smaller woman into a hug.

“Hi, Martha. It’s wonderful to see you again. And I do try.” Eliza laughed. Martha turned her attention to the baby carrier behind her son.

“Is that my grandson, the one you’ve kept away from me for all of this time?” Alexander reached down, unbuckling the sleeping infant from the carrier. Gently lifting him out, Alex cradled the baby, carefully handing him off to Martha.

She cradled him to her chest, moving away from the rest of them. The baby looked up at her with his big violet eyes, eyes so clearly belonging to her son. “Hello, Philip,” she cooed. She hadn’t held a baby this small since Patsy, all of those years ago. Returning to her rocking chair, Martha continued whispering to the child. 

“I think Mom has a new favorite,” Hercules whispered to John.

 

**Author's Note:**

> French Translations:  
> Bonjour, Gilbert. Comme ça va: Hello Gilbert. How are you?  
> Je suis mal à l'aise: I am a little uneasy.  
> Voilà undestandable: That is understandable  
> Elle s’appelle Martha: Her name is Martha.  
> Je m’appelle Martha: My name is Martha.  
> Qu'est-ce que c'est?: What is this?  
> Grand-mères: Grandmothers  
> Mamá, calmez-vous: Mom, calm down
> 
> (These were all Google Translate, so please forgive any mistakes).
> 
> Come hang with me on Tumblr: wiccan-lesbionage


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